More Than Meets The Eye
by sirena1
Summary: Sequel to Across Time. Cordy and Doyle are married and expecting and unexpected sixth child. Their eldest Ashling just returned home from New York. She and a new Fang Gang take on an evil worse than anything ever before seen.
1. Prodigal Daughter

Here we go, a sequel to Across Time! This is going to be fun. I've decided that it will be about Ashling, but that there will be a lot of Cordy and Doyle in it as well. And, to all my faithful readers, I would appreciate plot suggestions, and I need someone who has had experience beta reading to read the novel I just finished. It isn't about Angel, or even the supernatural, but I need it read before I submit it to the publisher. So, let me know if anyone is interested. This is also going to be a bit of a crossover. I know I've never written anything like that in the past, but I'm going to borrow Hannibal King from Blade:Trinity, simply because he's soooo hot.

Title: More Than Meets The Eye

Rating: PG-13 to R, depending on where you're reading. Warning: There will be sex. If you don't like it, skip that part.

Summary: When Ashling Doyle returns home after a scandal, she finds that some things have changed. Especially when she and another new addition to the Fang Gang have to go undercover together on a case of demonic proportions. Sequel to Across Time.

Dedication: To the class of 2005, and all of my friends. You've kept me grounded, you've kept me happy and you've made me feel loved. Good luck to you all. I'll see you in life. Also to Glenn Quinn, my muse for all my Doyle stories. You were loved, you are missed. We will never forget you.

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New York was a tougher city than Ashling Doyle had ever imagined it was. Of course she'd heard Uncle Angel and Uncle Spike warn her about what went on in the alleys late at night, but she hadn't listened. And at age nineteen, she'd left to strike out on her own. Four years later, she was back in Los Angeles.

Things had gone great at first. She'd started to make a mark on the stage, and in a few low budget movies, had had one relatively mentionable role in a science fiction thriller. But she'd missed her parents, her siblings, and her family. And when the man she'd been dating had forged a sex tape and she'd become the object of ridicule in the world of theater, she'd decided to go home. At least for a while.

And she knew her parents would take her back. They'd always told her that she could come home if things became more than she could take. She was going to take them up on the offer. A few months at home, working with Angel Investigations, it would be good for her, help her find her direction. She, like her mother, had wanted to act. Unlike her mother, she had succeeded. Like her mother, acting wasn't for her. She needed something more.

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Cordelia Doyle paced. It was what she was good at. And at forty-seven, she thought she still looked pretty damn good doing it. She was waiting for her eldest daughter to arrive, and was waiting anxiously. Her husband of twenty-four years was watching her with amusement evident in his blue eyes.

"She'll be here when she gets here, 'Delia, darlin'. And it's a long drive from New York to LA."

"I don't know why she wouldn't have that car shipped and fly out. It would be much safer."

"Cordy, she's been slaying vampires since she was twelve, and she's been driving since she was sixteen. I think she can handle it. Nothing's going to happen to her. Especially not with my heritage."

Doyle was half Bracken demon. Ashling had inherited some of his traits, and some of her mother's. With Cordelia's adventure twenty-four years before, and the time traveling that she had done to save Doyle's life, Ashling was a very talented girl. Her strength exceeded that of either parent, her Sensing abilities were magnificent, and she was a Seer, but had none of the pain that had accompanied, and still did accompany, her father's visions.

"Okay, okay. Maybe she can take care of herself, but she's still my baby and I'm still her mother, and it's my job to worry about her."

"Actually," Olivia said, walking in, her newly acquired car keys dangling from her fingers. "I'm your baby. When is Ash gonna get here?"

Doyle closed his book, giving up on getting any reading done. "She'll be here when she gets here. Where is your brother?"

"Gray stopped by Uncle Angel's. He said he'll be home by eight."

"And Tristan and Quinn?"

"Class until five. They'll be home for dinner."

Cordelia and Doyle had originally only planned on four kids. They'd had Ashling, Tristan and Quinn, then begun trying for another. It had taken them two years to get pregnant again, and they'd had twins. So, instead of four, they'd had five. Their lives were hectic and lightning speed. Neither wanted it any other way.

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Ashling looked at the LA skyline as she drove into town. It never failed to amaze her. She'd lived in New York, which was surely impressive, but nothing could compare to her home. It would always make her smile.

She turned a corner and slid into a parking space between her parents' cars. God, it felt good to be home. She couldn't wait to see her siblings and her quasi family at the office. It had been entirely too long since she'd been home.

She lifted three of her suitcases out of the back of her car and started up the steps, pausing to take in the all too familiar sights and smells of the house where she'd grown up. Not bothering to knock, Ashling twisted the doorknob and went inside.

It was chaos. Four siblings were running around, her mother was hurriedly preparing dinner, and her father was sitting in the living room, going over a case file. It was home. Just as she remembered it. Just as she had prayed it would be when she arrived.

It took a moment for anyone to realize that she was there. And then, it was Cordelia. She turned around, and locked eyes with her eldest child. "Ashling." She breathed, and ran across the room, enveloping her daughter in a bear hug.

"Hi, Mom." Ashling said, returning the hard embrace. "Miss me?"

Cordelia could barely speak, her emotions were so strong. Her baby was home. Where she belonged. "Welcome back, baby. We missed you so much."

Ashling valiantly fought back tears. "Oh, I missed home." With that, she turned and flew into her father's arms. Doyle held her tight, resting his cheek on the top of her head. It had been four, nearly five years since his little girl had been home, and he'd seen her just a handful of times in those years. "It's good to have you home."

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Ashling gave herself three days of pampering. She let Cordelia fix her breakfast and slept late, and lounged around. By the night of the third day, she was bored out of her skull. Which was why, on the morning of the fourth, she rose early, dressed in a suit and headed into the office.

No one was in. Well, at least, there weren't any cars in the driveway. Mumbling to herself, Ashling fished out her keys and went in the lower level entrance, which was to Angel's on site apartment, where any of them spent the night if they were working late. She'd used it herself as a teenager as a place to make out. She'd always gotten caught, though. Still couldn't figure out how.

She made her way through the apartment, marveling at how much it had changed over the years. It had been four since she'd been there, and it was obvious that Buffy had redecorated a couple times since. It looked good.

As she climbed the stairs, Ashling became aware of a voice that was very unfamiliar to her. It was heavily accented with an Irish lilt. Being very careful, so as not to disturb the person, she made her way up the stairs and into the main office, her hand on the stake she'd withdrawn from her purse. She didn't get very far before he spoke.

"You'd might as well put that away. It won't do you any good on me." He turned around, and Ashling caught sight of vivid violet eyes. "I'm human. You can kill me with that, but it would be quite messy. I wouldn't recommend it."

"Who are you?" Ashling demanded, no dropping the stake, even though she could already smell that he was human.

"Oh no, I think I'll be asking the questions since you're the one breaking and entering."

"It's not breaking and entering when you have a key." Ashling snapped, her heels clicking on the tile as she walked toward the man. "Now who are you?"

"That, lady, I'll tell you when you tell me who you are and why the hell you are in my office sneaking around like a burglar."

"My name is Ashling Doyle. I'm Cordelia and Doyle's daughter. I've just returned from New York and wanted to come and spend the day with my parents. I am in your office, if it is yours, because I grew up here. I have a key to all the doors. Now what is your name, before I call Angel and have him come down here."

The man rose, and Ashling saw that he was tall, towering over her five nine frame by six, maybe seven inches. His eyes were violet, his hair black, and he was wearing a beard that managed to be scruffy and groomed at the same time, without hiding his rakish good looks. He crossed the room, and she took in his faded jeans, that were tight in all the really good places, and wonderfully low on his hips and the black sweater that stretched tight over a broad and obviously muscled chest.

"Hannibal King, at your service. Formerly a member of a Fuck the Vampires gang, and now one of the Fang Gang."

"Good for you. How long have you worked here?"

"Six months and counting. Since Wesley retired. They needed another set of strong arms."

"I know. They're my family. How the hell am I supposed to believe you know anything about vampires or demons anyway?"

"Your mother asked me that same question. I'll give you the same answer." He pulled the waistband of his jeans down, revealing a mark, a tattoo, like that some vampires put on their victims. She knew the mark, knew that clan had been taken out not long before when Dracula had risen again. "I used to be one. How's that for starters?"

Ashling shrugged. "So that brings the question, how do I know I can trust you?"

King rolled his eyes, walked across the room and threw open the weapons cabinet. "See those, girlie? Those are all the weapons I could get to a lot faster than you. And your stake wouldn't hold up against any of them. They're all the weapons I brought from my lab before my group disbanded. I could kill you with any one of them. Instead, I'm letting you stand there and annoy me with all these stupid questions you would already know the answers to if you had checked with Angel or your parents before coming down here."

"I don't think I like you very much."

"I'm reserving judgment. From the stories your brother tells, you're a hellion."

"Tristan's twenty one. He's the hellion. And if it's Gray, he's sixteen, and doesn't properly know what a hellion is. He'll be one when he gets a little older though."

King liked the way she spoke of her family. It was, thus far, her only redeeming trait. However, he didn't get to say anything before they heard a crash downstairs. Both dashed for the weapons cabinet, withdrawing their weapon of choice, him a gun, her a sword. When they bounded down the stairs and saw two big, horned demons, King swore.

"Well fuck me." He said, and when a third charged in, his face sank. "Fuck me sideways. Ready to rumble, little girl?"

"I'm always ready to rumble. Little boy."

King decided that maybe he'd like her after all.

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Feedback, review, review, review! I need feedback! Opinions, suggestions, criticism, I'll take it all. If you read this, please review it.


	2. Unneeded Romance

Okay, here we go. Chapter 2. I'm really enjoying this story. I started it almost a year ago, and never finished the first chapter. Then the other day, I was clearing out my file and came across it. I reread it, and decided to run with it. My muse, thus far, seems to be in agreement with me. Keep in mind that I am graduating soon, so I can be relatively sure that this will move fast with pretty regular updates since I'll have four months until I start classes at Ohio State University.

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The demons were the rough and tumble sort, and none of them wanted to share the two humans. Which left Ashling and King to not only battle three demons, but three warring demons. That made the task of killing them that much harder.

When King looked over and saw Ashling in a headlock, he headed to help. However, when he got close, she kicked his gun out of his hand, caught it and shot the demon in the head, spraying them both with purple, goopy, sticky blood.

"Hey!" King protested, running after her as she catapulted toward a second demon. "That was supposed to be a rescue!"

"Get over it, pretty boy. I don't need saving." Ashling tossed her chocolate brown hair over one shoulder, tossed him his gun. "Let's end this now, argue over who's got the bigger dick later."

"I think I've got you beat there. Though," he added quite seriously as he kicked one demon in the gut, then put a bullet through its skull, "I think you may win the breast category. Possibly the vagina one too. Providing yours doesn't come complete with fangs."

"No one's ever complained before." Ashling said sweetly as, together, they killed the third demon.

"I so didn't need to know that. I do not need to hear about the sex life of the daughter of a couple I have to work with every day."

"You're the one who brought up my vagina." Ashling pointed out, laying her sword on the table. She looked around, surveyed the damage. Nothing too bad. A lot of demon blood, no real damage to the furniture. A couple broken chairs, a severely ruined rug that would have to be replaced.

"True, true, but I didn't ask about what went in it."

"Can we please change the subject?"

"Please," Cordelia said regally, walking down the stairs, "do. You, Hannibal King, watch that mouth of yours when it comes to my daughter. And Ashling, please try to be good. I know you probably instigated it. Now, tell me what happened and what they were so we can get this cleaned up before the boys get back. Buffy! Come down here, please."

Buffy bounded down the stairs. She was the same age as Cordelia, and, like Cordelia, looked over a decade younger. Neither looked much past thirty. "Whoa. You two have a party and not invite Aunt Buffy?"

"Not precisely," Ashling began carefully, but King cut in.

"Mother fuckers broke in." he said offhandedly. "The Princess here and I took care of them." He looked at Cordelia, "You raised a decent fighter, Cordy." He started up the stairs. "Too bad that's the only thing she's decent at."

Cordelia barely smothered a laugh and watched her daughter's face turn bright red. She put out an arm and blocked Ashling's angry bound up the stairs after King. "Let him go. He's annoying, but harmless." She stroked Ashling's hair. "Calm down, go get a shower while Buffy and I clean this up. Cute, too, don't ya think?"

Ashling's only answer was a growl as she stalked up the stairs. She and Cordelia wore the same size, and Cordelia always kept clothes in the office, so she knew there was something she could put on once she got clean. Cordelia was silent until she knew Ashling was out of hearing range. The child had ears as good as her father.

"So, how long do you bet it is before they end up in bed?"

Buffy shrugged. "Couple days, maybe a week. Major sparks there."

"She's spitting mad, and getting madder because she's attracted to him."

"Yup. Same way you were with Doyle, if I remember correctly."

Cordelia sighed, remembered the way her relationship with her husband had come about. "Buffy, I need a little advice."

Buffy looked up from where she was rolling the rug so that it could be disposed of. "What's up?"

"I have a major problem."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Ashling's almost twenty four. She will be next week. Tristan's twenty-one, Quinn's nineteen and Olivia and Gray just turned sixteen. I'm forty seven."

"Yeah, so? Mid life crisis a decade early here or something? Cor, we don't look our age."

"All my kids are nearly grown. I'll be a grandmother in the next few years."

"Okay, you're gonna have to spit this out soon. I can't take much more suspense." Buffy teased, swiping blonde hair off her forehead.

"I'm pregnant." Cordelia laid a hand over her stomach. "I just found out. I thought I was starting to go menopausal when I missed my period, but I started getting sick, and today, I had a major craving for apples with barbecue sauce. So I took a test. Twelve of them. And they all say the same thing. I'm having another baby."

"Congratulations or condolences?"

"I'm too old!" Cordelia screeched, dropping into a chair. "I'm nearly fifty. I can't start over with another eighteen years of constant mothering. I don't have the energy. And Doyle's fifty-two. We're too old to do this again. We were almost done." Cordelia whirled around, saw Ashling on the stairs, her mouth hanging open. "Ash-"

"I forgot to grab my purse. It has my touch up make up in it. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Buffy slid an arm around Ashling's shoulders to steady her. "It's okay, honey."

Ashling gave her mother as genuine a grin as she could work up. "Wow. This is some coming home present. I get a new little brother or sister." She walked down the stairs, and despite of the demon guts hanging on her, she wrapped her arms around Cordelia. "I so get to be Godmother. I am old enough. I insist on it. And you aren't old. We still get mistaken for sisters. That either means you look really young, or I look really old. And I don't look old."

Cordelia held onto her eldest child tightly. "I don't know if I have another two decades of this left in me. You'll be past forty by the time I get this one out of high school."

"And we'll all help. You know what they say. It takes a village to raise a baby. And I'm going to be a part of the village for a while. Between all of us, I'm sure we have enough energy to raise one baby."

"You're old enough to be its mother."

"And you're not too old to be its mother, either. So calm down, feed your cravings and tell Dad tonight over a romantic dinner of some sort. I'll take your rotation on patrol. Even though it means putting up with that jackass King, and it means you so majorly owe me."

"Thanks, Ashling. Now go get your shower. That stuff is starting to dry and it stinks." Cordelia laughingly pushed Ashling away. The younger woman ran back up the stairs and into the bathroom. And stopped in her tracks, faced with a very wet, naked but for a towel, Hannibal King.

"Oh, dear God." Ashling stammered, backing up toward what she thought was the door, and ended up being a wall. "I'm so sorry."

King ran a hand through his hair. "Not a big deal. Hop in if you want a shower. I'll be done here in a few minutes." He turned to the mirror, wiped steam off of it. When she didn't move, he turned around again. "Problem?"

"I'll just wait until you're done."

"I am done in the shower. I need to dry my hair and get dressed. It'll take five minutes. It's silly for you to spend another five minutes covered in demon shit until I'm completely done. Get in the shower, Ashling."

"You're almost naked."

With a heaving sigh, King dropped the towel. "There. Now I'm completely naked. Happier with it this way?"

Ashling couldn't breathe. Her face turned red, her breath caught in her throat and lodged there, her stomach did flips. "Clothes."

"What about clothes?"

"Put some on."

"I'm still wet." King pointed out, reaching for the buttons on her jacket.

"What the hell are you doing!"

"You have to get naked to get a shower, and you're apparently not going to do it yourself, so I'm helping you." He looked down at her hands, long and slim, folded over his, keeping her blouse closed. "Good Lord, woman, I'm not going to take advantage of you. You aren't my type. Too prickly. Get in the damn shower, before I dump you in there myself. And stop acting like you haven't ever seen a naked man."

The words were out before she even realized the thought had formed. "I haven't."

King was taken aback. He dropped his hands and reached for the towel again. "Okay, change of tactics here. I don't like frazzling virgins so soon. I'll wait a couple days to really frazzle you."

"Thanks ever so much." Ashling said dryly. "I appreciate it more than you can know."

"I'm sure." He secured the towel, deftly removed her blouse and unfastened her slacks. "Shoes off."

When she did as she was told, he couldn't have been more surprised. He soon saw why she had paled so quickly, and it wasn't because she had volunteered information she hadn't wanted to and was regretting it.

"Dammit, lady, why didn't you tell me you were hurt!"

Ashling's gaze snapped to his. "I am?" she looked down, saw the gaping hole in her lower abdomen. "It didn't hurt."

"Adrenaline. The demon form is much stronger than that of humans. You won't feel it for another few minutes. Ever been gouged before?"

"Can't say I have. Do I need stitches?"

"They wouldn't hurt. Hop up onto the sink, lemme have a look here."

Ashling slid onto the counter beside the sink, slipped her pants off so that he could see her stomach. "Maybe you should go get Mom or Aunt Buffy."

"Ai'nt that bad. I can handle it. I've taken care of worse." He bent closer to see the wound, reached for a cloth to clean it. "We'll forgo the stitched. You'll heal fine without them. Probably have a scar though."

"I don't scar." Ashling said absent-mindedly. "Never have. Demon blood and all."

"Lucky. Okay, I'm gonna clean it out," with just that as warning, he poured rubbing alcohol on it, held her hips down when she screeched and jerked them. "Easy now, almost over. It'll stop burning in a second here. There, that should be better. Get your shower and then I'll iodine and bandage it."

Ashling glared at him as she walked into the shower. She closed the curtain with a smart snap and threw her sopping wet and yucky clothes over the top. He waited until he heard the water running to laugh. He didn't think she could hear him, and went about drying off and getting dressed. He was sitting on the counter, waiting, when she began washing her hair for the third time.

"Is that not coming out, or are you trying to wait until I give up and leave?"

Ashling stuck her head around the curtain to show him the goop that still resided in her shoulder length hair. "Both."

King looked her over. She wasn't beautiful. Had too much spirit to be so easily categorized. Classic features like those of her mother's, with Doyle's sparkling blue eyes. She was smaller than Cordelia, more delicate in build and stature. They were the same size, Cordelia just had more substance to her. Had to after having given birth five times. Her body was neat and tidy, a little on the slender side, but well toned. Actresses typically were.

She looked like pictures of Cordelia that he'd seen. Hollywood beauty, exotic charm, and a killer mouth. Her jaw was more square, her chin a little less pointed, her brows a little softer, taking on some of her father's traits. A perfect combination of the two parents.

King pushed off the counter, walked over, efficiently wrapped her in the shower curtain so she couldn't just duck inside and ignore him. "Y'know, Ashling, you look pretty damn good in purple demon guts."

"Stop patronizing me, and let go." Ashling snapped, pushing against his chest.

"No, I don't think I will." He bent his head, sniffed at her neck. "Smell good, at least. I wonder if you taste as good."

"Don't you dare-" was all that she got out before he nipped her shoulder, soothed with a quick flick of his tongue. Her knees very nearly collapsed. "Oh, God."

"Yup." He moved up her neck, to the slope of her jaw, and her eyes rolled back. "Now. Let me see here. I bet you taste even better right here."

With that, his mouth closed over hers. She wanted to fight him. Wanted to push him away and yell at him, call him all the names that had sped through her brain in the milliseconds between realization of his intentions and the moment he had actually kissed her.

Oh, he had a good mouth. Firm and warm and clever, his tongue darting in and out, keeping her wondering about just how he was going to go about the kiss. Her arms freed themselves from the shower curtain, snaked around him, kneading his back, sliding over muscles.

It was wrong. She'd only known him hours. Didn't like him in the least. And yet, there she was, in the shower, wrapped in the shower curtain, her mouth being plundered by that very man. He eased back from her slowly, with light nips at her mouth and quick kisses.

"You wanna come out, or do you want me to come in?"

Doyle had appeared at the door in time to see Hannibal kiss his daughter. He'd stared in shock at the unsuspecting couple, but reality broke through at King's words. He took a step into the room. "I suggest you get your hands off my baby girl." He said icily, waiting until King took a step back to take a swing at him. "You bastard."

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"Mom!" Ashling yelled, running down the stairs, "Mom!"

Cordelia met her at the bottom. "What's wrong? Why are you wearing a shower curtain?"

"Dad, and King, and he kissed me, and punching, and blood."

"Calm down. What happened?"

"I was in the shower, and King kissed me."

"You were in the shower with him? Ashling Mackenzie Doyle-"

"No, I was in the shower alone. He was waiting for me to get out, cause I hurt myself in the fight, and I needed a little help bandaging it cause it's in an awkward place, and he thought I was dilly dallying, and I was, and wasn't, and he kissed me, and Dad saw, and he asked me if I wanted to get out or if I wanted him to get in with me, and Dad was there, and they got into a fight!"

"Your father attacked King?"

"Yes! And fired him!"

Cordelia stalked up the stairs. "Allen Francis Doyle, what the bleeding hell do you think that you are doing!"

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Okay kids, chapter 2! R&R please! I live on feedback. I'm all open for suggestions. More will follow shortly. email me at if you want to contact me directly.


	3. Mission: Impossible

Okay everyone, here's Chapter 3. I hope you've all liked everything so far. I know I've certainly enjoyed writing it.

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Doyle looked at his wife. "He was trying to take advantage of our baby."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Who is nearly twenty four. She can take care of herself. Ashling, do you know what the word no means?"

"Yes."

"And are you capable of saying that word when someone asks you to do something you don't want to do?"

"Yes."

"And had you said that word to Hannibal when your father attacked him?"

"No."

"So if you hadn't said no, and he hadn't pressed you despite you having said no to him, then he did nothing wrong, and your father's attack was completely unwarranted. Doyle, apologize to King."

"I will not. How long has he known her, Cordelia? A few hours."

"Three actually." King put in helpfully.

"Three bloody hours! You don't kiss someone after three hours!"

"It's done all the time on dates, Dad." Ashling wasn't feeling too hot, leaned on the desk closest to her to keep her balance. That wound must be a little worse than she'd thought. She was beginning to feel it, and it hurt like a mother. "Look, it's not a big deal. And no offense, even if it was, it isn't your business."

"Don't," Cordelia said when Doyle started to speak. "She's right. She's been out of the house for years. She can take care of herself, and who she is kissed by, kisses, and sleeps with, is none of our business. You certainly wouldn't have taken kindly to my parents telling you that it was inappropriate to kiss me when we first met."

"That's different."

"Doyle."

The warning in Cordelia's voice was enough to have Doyle rethinking his anger over the situation. He didn't want to sleep on the couch. Or the floor, more accurately, since Ashling was sleeping on the couch. "Okay. You win. I'm sorry."

Ashling caught King's gaze. "Hey, you any good at catching?"

He looked puzzled. "Yeah, why?"

"Catch me, please."

King snatched her up barely before she hit the floor. She was light, he easily lifted her, cradling her against his chest. Before either of her parents recovered, he was carrying her into the well-stocked medical lab.

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Ashling regained consciousness slowly, became aware of her surroundings even more slowly. She was lying in bed, covered with a heavy quilt and wearing a pair of boxers and a thick sweater. She wasn't sure who they belonged to at first, but a quick wiggle told her they were too big to belong to her father, and too small to be Angel's. Which meant they were King's. That irritated her.

It made sense though. Doyle's clothes would have fit her nicely, same way they did her mother. But they would have been too tight around the wound in her abdomen, which would have made moving very uncomfortable. And Angel's clothes would have fallen off of her.

She slipped from beneath the blankets slowly, got to her feet. She was feeling much steadier. She made it three steps before the door opened and Angel walked in. "Good morning, sunshine." He said brightly, slipping an arm around her to help her walk. "Feeling better?"

"Much, thanks."

"You gave everyone quite a scare, darlin'. Why didn't you tell anyone you were hurt?"

"I didn't know until King saw it in the bathroom, and then things got a little crazy. I forgot about it until it started hurting, and then I passed out. Why did I pass out?"

"Demon blood mixed with yours. Wasn't a pretty combination." Angel led her to his office. "I heard about what went on around here earlier. Sounds like you had a pretty adventurous homecoming here."

"Well, I hate boring, so I didn't really mind."

"Ash, I hate to approach you when you're down, but if I let your parents get to you first, I know they'll try to talk you out of it. I need a favor."

"Sure. I'm here to help."

Angel sat back in his chair, pushed a button on his phone. "King, could you please come in here?"

"Sure thing, boss. Be right there."

Ashling waited a beat. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"I'll tell you both in a minute."

"Angel, I don't want to spend any more time with him than I have to. Today was a mistake, and it can't happen again. I don't have time for a romance, or even a fling. I have a career that needs to get back on track, and I want to work here for a while, and there're too many things going on."

"Ash, you told me yourself a year ago that you didn't think acting was the right choice for you. You had a great run; you made quite a name for yourself in Indie films and that one horror movie. You were great, but your heart wasn't in it. So don't give me that crap about putting your career back on track."

King leaned against the doorway. "What's up?"

"Come in, close the door, and sit down. I need to ask the two of you for a favor."

"What kind of a favor?"

"A big one." Angel waited until King had sat down. "There's this town, about three hours from here. Summerhaven, I'm sure you've probably never heard of it. Small, about three thousand people and a major demon underground population. There's been a chain of unexplained deaths, people disappearing; a few instances I'm sure are possessions. And no one will talk to an outsider. I need someone to go in, undercover, and find out what's going on."

"Isn't that Mom and Dad's thing?"

Angel conceded the point with a nod. "Normally, yes. But you know, and I think just about everyone but your father knows, that Cordelia is expecting another child. She can't do anything for a while. At her age, rest and as little stress as possible are what she needs more than anything else. Buffy and I can't possibly go, we're too well known. Ash, you have no connections to AI. King, you've only been here a few months. That means you two are our best bet."

Ashling sighed, knew when she'd been beat. "What's our cover?"

"Young couple, newly married, looking for a place to settle down and raise a family. King, you'll be a web page designer. I know you're good with computers, so that'll be easy for you. Ash, I've already arranged for you to take over the theatre program at the local high school. If you know how to do anything, you know how to act."

King stood, "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you can get packed. The house is mostly furnished, but you'll have to buy some things when you get there. It isn't a big deal; I've set up unlimited accounts for you with the local bank there. You two need to manage to make this as real looking as you can. Ash, go by Mrs. King. This is an old fashioned town; they wouldn't take well to a woman keeping her maiden name after being married. And don't, under any circumstances, show your demon face to anyone."

King goggled for a second. "You have a demon face?"

"Yeah. But I'm blue, not green like Dad. Female Bracken's are a little different than males. See, when Mom was a demon for a while, that first time around, she kept her demon genes, so I'm actually about a third demon. It's a long convoluted story that would take forever to explain."

"Okay. We'll just leave it at you have a demon face. Can I see it?"

"No. I've never brought it out willingly. I hate it almost as much as Dad."

"Why? It's a part of what makes you you."

"It's also ugly and spiky. I enjoy having my strengths. I like being part demon. I completely embrace my heritage. I just don't like looking like a walking pin cushion."

"Which is understandable." King relented. "I'm just curious about things like that. Your Dad hasn't let me see his face either."

"He brings it out even less than I do."

Angel cleared his throat. "Can we get back to the matter at hand? King, you, too, need to keep your heritage at bay. No fangs, no super human reflexes. And don't let that tattoo show. Some people will recognize it for what it is."

"I thought you were human."

"He is. But, like me, he still retains some of his advantageous traits. Hearing, smelling, strength, jumping abilities, retractable fangs. Those sorts of things." Angel rose. "Okay, you two need to go get packed. King, take your SUV. I'll have everything you need when you get back here."

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Cordelia paced in front of Ashling as she repacked everything that she had unpacked. "I could kill Angel for asking you to do this so soon after you get back. And you're hurt!"

"I'll be healed by tomorrow, day after at the latest. Mom, there's no one else who can do this. Angel doesn't hardly ever ask me to do anything for him. I'm not about to turn him down on something as important as this. I don't have a right to after everything he's done for us."

"Yes, you do. If you don't want to go, don't go. I don't want this life for you, Ash. For any of my children."

"It's a life that chose us, Mom. We were made to do this. All of us. That's why we can't stay away. Tristan's a Watcher, Quinn's studying to be a demonologist, Gray and Olivia are going to go to school to train in Martial Arts. We all pick different ways, and we all end up doing the same thing."

"I know. And I hate it. I wanted it different for all of you. There's nothing I wanted less for you guys than to do what I've been doing almost all of my life."

"And we wanted to. When you grow up with those around you helping people and making a difference, it more oftentimes than not ends up being what you want to do. Mom, a little advice?"

"Sure, baby, what's up?"

"How long after you met Dad were you attracted to him?"

"It took me a while. A few weeks. I thought he was annoying. He is annoying," Cordelia amended. "But I love him anyway."

"Have you ever had a relationship based on meaningless attraction?"

"How do you know it's meaningless?" Cordelia countered. "Ash, I know what it is to see someone and want them. Don't get embarrassed, we're both females here." She chastised when her daughter blushed. "And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. But you can't possibly know whether or not it's going to turn out to be meaningless until you give it a fair shot. You have to give it a chance to be more."

"So I shouldn't balk from the fact that I am attracted to a man I don't think I can even stand to be around?"

"Nope. My advice? Embrace and enjoy it while it lasts. Life is far too short to waste on the safe things, Ash. You have to live a little before you get old."

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Ashling arrived at the office with several boxes and suitcases. Since no one knew how long they were going to be in Summerhaven, both she and King took everything they thought they could possibly need, including quite a few demonology books. By the time King's SUV was loaded, Ashling was wondering how the two of them were going to unload everything by themselves.

"Ready to go?" King asked, opening her door for her.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She looked up at him. "I don't know how to be a wife, even a fake one."

"You're an actress. You can pretend to adore me."

She scoffed. "Why don't we just say I've got you wrapped around my little finger and you do whatever I want you to?"

"Only in your dreams, baby." He climbed in the driver's seat. "Let's get on the road then. We need to get there before dark if we want to get any of this unloaded tonight."

"Nervous?"

"Not in the least. This is what I'm used to doing. How about you?"

"Never done undercover before, so, yeah, I'm just a tad bit nervous. We should be fine though. It can't be that hard. The only difficult thing is going to be pretending that I'm in love with you."

"Ditto, babe. You aren't exactly lovable."

"And you are?"

"I never said that. " King pointed out, turning into traffic. "You do know that we have to share a bed, right?"

"No, we absolutely do not." Ashling shot him a pointed look. "I am not sleeping with you."

"You were singing a different tune this afternoon."

"Extenuating circumstances."

"Right. Feeling better now?"

"Yes, why?"

"No demon blood in you that shouldn't be there clouding your judgement?"

"No."

King pulled over to the side of the road, leaned across the seat to unbuckle her seatbelt and hefted her into his lap. She didn't manage to form a complete thought before his mouth crashed down onto hers.

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Chapter 3 everyone. Still waiting on reviews. I may just stop posting if I don't get any reviews.


	4. Hellmouth, Take Two

Here's chapter 4. I really wish that some of you would review. This story is really going well, I think, and it seems like no one is reading it. I'll even take flames at this point.

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Ashling struggled against him, pushing viciously at his chest for several moments, before, with a curse and an oath, she succumbed to him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing against his chest. Her tongue tangled with his, her nails clawed at his back, pulling him closer. His hands swept down her body, covering, kneading her breasts, pressing her hips into his with his hands on her ass.

There was no reason for it, no rhyme to it. She didn't even really like him. He stood for everything she had always held herself apart from. He was dangerous, more than a little intriguing, and the wrong type of guy for her. He didn't want a relationship. He wanted a bed partner. He didn't want her. He wanted a warm body to share a couple of nights with before running off to the next woman.

It was a mistake to feel the way she did. To want him the way she hadn't ever wanted another man/. Desperately, with no strings, no emotional ties, nothing except the physical attraction. She should say no. She should shove him away and tell him that it couldn't ever happen again. That he wasn't for her, that she didn't want him. And they would both know she was lying.

Instead, she found herself tugging him closer, meeting each movement of his mouth with one of her own. He was so bad for her. He would ruin her. Make her feel things and show her how it could be, how it was supposed to be, and then leave her. It was always the same way.

With an oath and a muffled sob, Ashling wrenched herself away from him, huddling in a corner of the car, wrapping her arms around her knees. King sat back, studied her for a moment, trying to decide how to best broach the situation.

"What's this all about? Did I scare you?"

Ashling shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. I'd really rather not talk about it."

"What is it, Ash?" King raked a hand through his hair. "Did something happen to you?"

"I said that I don't want to talk about it. I wish you would please drop it."

"Well, it isn't often that I have a woman yank away from me crying. I can't possibly be that bad of a kisser."

"No, no, you're fine at it. Better than fine. I just, I don't do this, okay? The last time I was involved with someone, it ended very badly."

"What happened?"

Ashling sighed. "Could you drive, please? If I'm going to tell you this, which you aren't going to let me choose not to, I'd really rather you weren't staring at me."

King obligingly pulled the car back out onto the highway. "There. I can't even see you now."

"I'm sure you heard the scandal. With why I left Hollywood just as I was starting to make it."

"Something about an affair with a seventy something married director."

"It wasn't the director I was involved with, it was his son. He was thirty five, and everything you always imagine movie stars being. Handsome and charming, nice, polite, a real gentleman. Or so I thought. He took me to parties, introduced me to all my idols in the business. I can't tell you how many actors and politicians I sat at dinner tables with. It was like a fairy tale. We were very exclusive, or at least I was. I found out later that he had a whole string of women while we were together. It wasn't long before everyone knew, or thought they did anyway, that we were sleeping together.

"It was the natural progression of things, and a complete lie. I'd never even dreamed of going to bed with him. He was a magnificent kisser, and I was tempted almost every time I was with him to just give in and let go and go to bed with him. But it never felt right. Natural, I guess. The way I imagined that it should. He became unhappy, said I was unresponsive and not giving him what he needed. When I said I wasn't ready to have sex with him, he decided he didn't care. He threw me down and raped me. So, no, King, I'm not a virgin, though I didn't lie when I said I hadn't ever seen a naked man. He had me tied and blindfolded. His father found him, us, and saw what was going on. I was beaten, bloody and bruised, and it was obvious to anyone what had happened. He had a heart attack on the spot, and in order to save face, Charles told everyone that I had given his father the heart attack because we were having an affair."

King was silent for a minute. "How long ago was that?"

"Six months. I didn't make it long before I had to get out of there."

"Do your parents know?"

"No, and if you tell them, I swear to God I'll whip out my pincushion and spike you to death."

"Did you ever press charges?"

"His lawyers gave me a huge amount of money to keep me quiet. I don't want Mom and Dad to have to go through a trial. It's done and over with, and I don't want to have to deal with it anymore. Besides, it's punishment enough that he contracted AIDS from the next woman he slept with."

"Poetic justice, I guess. And you haven't been involved with anyone since?"

"No. Look, I didn't tell you this because I want you to feel sorry for me. I don't. I just want you to understand why I can't do this. I can't have an affair with you. I want to, I do. To dive in, eyes closed and let things go where they go and have fun and be wild, but I can't. I'm not built for that, and quite honestly, men like you, slightly rough ones, who don't go about things the way they were meant to be done, make me nervous. You've been trying to seduce me since we met this morning."

"I've taken on less rewarding projects than that. I want you, Ashling, and I'm not going to lie and say I don't."

"Okay, then let's leave it at you want me, but can't have me yet. And I want you, but can't give myself yet. I need time, and I need you to go slow, and when I say stop, I need you to stop."

"I've never forced a woman to do anything they didn't want to do."

"We both know you could make me want to. So that I'd only say no once and then you'd have be begging you to keep going."

"That's a dangerous kind of honesty you've got there." King said gruffly.

"I know, and I use it to my advantage a lot, like I am now. Do we have a deal?"

"Any idea on how long you're going to be making me wait?"

"Long enough for you to woo me. I want romance, King, and I intend to get it."

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The house was on Midnight Avenue, which was fitting, because that was about what time they arrived at the house. It was huge. Three stories if you included the attic, four if you included the basement. Six bedrooms, five and a half baths, formal living room, family room, an office, kitchen and dining room, sun room, two pantries, a laundry room, exercise room, and a pool complete with a pool house.

"Oh yeah," Ashling said when they pulled into the driveway. "This is really inconspicuous."

"Did Angel get us the biggest house here?"

"Possibly. Probably, knowing him."

"Why?"

"Same principle as when he moved to Sunnydale forever ago. He wanted to be known of and mysterious. He wanted an in to the darker side of things, and we need one here. Things here obviously aren't all sunshine and ice cream."

"Or there would be no need for us. Oh well, this big of a place will make it easier for us to hide what we're doing, and for us to have separate rooms if we want to."

"We can sleep separately, but I think it's best if we only have our things in one room. Don't want to make anything obvious."

"True enough. I'm fine with one bed if you are. That may be all that we have for the first few nights anyway until we can get some more furniture in here."

"We're both adults. We can handle sharing a bed. It isn't a huge deal." Ashling, her objections of that afternoon calmed, got out of the SUV and carried the first load of stuff onto the porch. "Let's get it all to here first, and then worry about getting it into the house. Do you have the keys?"

King withdrew them from his pocket. "Keys. Wanna go inside?"

Ashling shrugged. "Might as well have a look around."

"Okay, let's do that then." King unlocked the front door, turned, and before she could step through the entryway, scooped Ashling into his arms and carried her over the threshold.

Laughing, she tossed back her dark hair. "What was that for?"

"Isn't it tradition that when a couple moves into their first house, the woman gets carried through the front door?"

"I think so. But I always thought it was the threshold of wherever they're spending their wedding night."

"Well, we'll just consider this our wedding night. Since, technically speaking, it is."

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It was four in the morning before either of them fell asleep, and even then, they did so in the living room, on the floor, surrounded by boxes. Ashling was the first to wake, at nine thirty, and she only woke up because there was someone knocking on the door. She climbed to her feet, took a quick glance in the mirror sitting on the couch waiting to be hung to check her appearance, which was surprisingly decent, and kicked King to wake him up before heading to the door.

She found a woman. Tall, willowy, with bright red hair and intense green eyes. She was in her mid thirties, Ashling guessed, and from the necklace she wore around her neck, had a couple of kids, as there were three children's pendants hanging there.

"Hi, I'm Laura McCallum, from next door. I just wanted to stop over and make sure you and your husband were settling in all right."

Ashling extended a hand. "Ashling King. Nice to meet you. My-" Ashling paused for a split second. "husband should be our shortly. We just got in late last night, so we're starting to unpack."

"Oh, yes, I know how that it. When my husband and I moved here a few years ago, it was the same way. It took us months to settle in completely. When is it you start work at the school?"

"After Christmas break. So, in about three weeks."

"You'll have such fun with the kids. They're really wonderful."

King came up behind Ashling, leaned around her to offer his hand to Laura. "Hannibal King, nice to meet you."

"Laura McCallum, from next door." Laura couldn't help oogling King for a second. "I just wanted to welcome you both to the neighborhood, make sure everything was going all right for you. I should let you get back to unpacking."

Ashling's manners kicked in. "Are you sure you don't want to come in? I think we've got some coffee somewhere."

"No, thanks. I really do have to go. Just yell if you need anything. I'd be glad to help."

Ashling watched their neighbor dash across the lawn and into her own house. "Well, that was slightly strange."

"It was more than slightly strange. She saw me and took off like I was a demon or something."

"That's just Laura. She gets nervous around men." Another woman, this one close to Ashling's age, walked onto the porch. She was blonde, the hair falling to her shoulders in a bob, with laughing blue eyes. "Grace Harrison, I own the bookstore downtown. I was also drafted by the biddies who buy up all my romance novels to come over here and make sure the two of you aren't psychotic serial killers. You aren't, are you?"

Ashling too an instant liking to the tall blonde. "Not that I'm aware of. Got any secrets honey?"

King nearly cringed at the pet name, managed to control himself. "No, no secrets." He shook hands with Grace. "Hannibal King, and this is my wife Ashling."

"Nice to meet you. I always wondered who'd buy this house. Anyone bother to tell you the story?"

"What story?" Ashling's curiosity was piqued.

"Guess not then." Grace held up a bag. "If you can locate cups, I brought a pound of coffee. I'm not about to let you dig through all those boxes for a grinder, so I brought grounds instead of beans. I figured you'd have a coffee pot out already."

King nodded. "It was the first thing I unpacked. Come on in. I want to hear this story."

Grace didn't start until they were all sitting in the living room with steaming cups of coffee and a bag of chocolate chip cookies Ashling had unearthed from a box marked 'sweaters'. That epitomized her packing skills.

"Didn't you wonder why no one has lived in a house this great in almost a hundred years?"

Ashling nodded. "That's weird. It's a great house. Lots of character."

Grace laughed. "More than you know. And ninety years ago, a family moved in. Three kids I think, and a dog or two. They lasted two weeks. All of them were found dead one morning in the living room, throats ripped out, not a drop of blood left in their bodies."

Vampires. Which proved part of Angel's theory. There was definitely something going on. Ashling got a feeling it was a little more than the living dead. She could feel her demon senses kicking in. They were telling her she had a Hellmouth to deal with.


	5. Culmination and Regrets

This is a transition chapter. It's important to the plot, and the development of the characters. This chapter is also rated R. There is sex. SO if you don't want to read it, you're going to have to skip some sections. I hope you like it, please review. I know this has been a long time coming, but I've been mega busy. Hopefully updates will be a little more regular, but no, I haven't forgotten about this one.

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King paced. Ashling sat. They had totally opposite ways of dealing with the exact same situation. They were sitting on a Hellmouth. At least, they were pretty sure they were sitting on a Hellmouth. There was no telling for sure until they did a little more investigating, but supernatural senses from both parties were telling them that they were.

"A Hellmouth. Under this house." King said those five words for what Ashling thought was the one hundredth time.

"We think. We have to do a locator spell. Why don't I call Mom or Aunt Willow and get the directions?"

"They should do it from there. We don't want to be known as the freaky Wiccan people."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with being Wicca." Ashling became immediately defensive. While she claimed no religion, her aunt was a devout Wicca, and her mother sometimes dabbled in spells. She had too, when a particular demon demanded it.

"No, there isn't. It comes in handy quite often. But," King continued, "People in Summerhaven aren't going to see it like that. We want to fit in, not stand out."

"True enough. Though if it isn't obvious, we can do it anyway. No one should be able to tell."

"We'll just have to check." He stalked across the kitchen, filled up his cup of coffee. "Want some more?"

Ashling shook her head. "No, thank you." King was amazed at how perfect she looked, in the clothes she had worn the day before, after a night sleeping on the floor. Not a hair was out of place, her face, make up free, looked fresh and lovely. He growled, had an inexplicable urge to muss her up. He strode back to the table, plunked his coffee down and gripped her by her elbows. He lifted her up and clamped his mouth over hers before shock could register.

Ashling only knew one moment she had been watching him stalk around their kitchen in mild amusement, and the next he had been yanking her out of her chair and kissing her. Taking it all in stride, she wrapped her arms around him and opened her mouth. Her quiet acceptance seemed to irritate him even more.

His hands tangled in her hair, dragging her head back so that he could savage her mouth. He used his teeth and tongue on her mouth, down her soft neck to her collarbone. His hands gripped her slim hips, yanking them into his, anchoring her hard against him.

She felt the quick surge of panic, the undeniable fear. She would not panic. She would not run. Her brain warred viciously with her body while they kissed. And the next thing she knew, she was on the kitchen counter, and his hands were under her shirt, taking possession of her breasts. Her hands were on his chest, the button up he had been wearing being thrown across the room. Her hands raced over the hard planes of his chest, down to his abdomen, where they fumbled with his belt for several seconds before it joined his shirt in an unknown corner of the kitchen.

She wanted him. She felt the need rise up in her chest, the flames igniting in her belly. She tore her mouth from his. "Not here." She muttered, abandoning his pants to more thoroughly explore that beautiful chest he had. She'd wanted to since the very first second she'd seen it. "Not here."

Understanding her desire not to make love for the first time on the kitchen counter, King scooped her up and headed for the stairs. He didn't know how he made it to the top of the stairs. Not when an incredibly gorgeous woman was wrapped around him, and her mouth was clamped on his. Not when his hands were discovering places on her body that had haunted his dreams the night before. But he made it, though he had to stop twice to slam her back into the wall and kiss her like he wanted to for hours. He turned into the first bedroom he came to and they tumbled onto the bare mattress, to absorbed in each other to notice what it was they were laying on.

He ripped her shirt from her, flung it away. She was tearing at his pants, and finally she managed to get them undone. He kicked them off, his mouth never leaving hers. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him hard into her, wanting to feel him against her. They rolled over the bed until she was on top. Instinct was the only thing that told her what to do. Her hips moved against his as she straddled him, his hands streaked up her rib cage from her waist and again found her breasts. She hadn't thought that she would ever enjoy having a man's hands there, but his were superb. Her head fell back, her hair streamed down her back and she groaned deep in her throat as he caressed her.

From the second he'd wrapped her in the shower curtain and asked 'want to come out or want me to come in', they'd known that they were only putting off the inevitable. It was like their bodies had been created for that one purpose. He sat up, fisted his hands in her hair and plunged into her mouth. He couldn't get enough of her. The way she felt, the way she tasted. He thought if he didn't stop making love to her for several years he still wouldn't have enough of her.

He unsnapped her bra, let it join her shirt and his pants in the evergrowing pile of clothing on the floor. And then she couldn't think, could hardly breathe. That glorious mouth took one of her breasts and she was lost. She couldn't have told him to stop if she'd wanted to. It was her turn to fist her hands in his hair, holding him to her as she reveled in sensation. She writhed as he tortured her.

He rolled her beneath him, stripped off her pants. He was determined to draw things out as long as he could. Give her as much as he could. He remembered the sensitive spot on her shoulder, nipped it lightly and felt her muscles go lax. He continued down her body, wanting to see, touch, and taste every inch of it. He finished the task of undressing her, explored every nuance and curve of her body all the way down to her toes. When he slid back up and took her mouth once more, she was quivering, her body humming.

"Ash." He said, and slowly, her eyes opened. He grinned at the blurriness of them. He imagined she couldn't so much as see straight. "Tell me to stop and I will."

She shook her head. "I couldn't have told you no three hours after we met." She murmured, "I want you."

That was the last coherent thought she had. His boxers hit the floor, he eased her thighs apart with one hand, and he plunged. Her body came off the bed, she surged around him, her hips bucked into his. He was long and hard, and filled her completely. They both stilled for a moment, each knowing that if they weren't still it would be over much too soon. He waited as long as he could, and then with a groan, started moving.

His strokes were slow and deep, and she felt every inch of him. Her hips moved in the rhythm he initiated, and her hands were pressed against his chest, caught between wrapping around him and holding on for dear life. When the thrusts started coming harder and faster, her eyes crossed. She'd never felt like that before. She was arching against him, moving with him, her hands had somehow linked around him.

He took her hands, curled her fingers around the headboard. Somehow, though he wasn't really aware of it, his locked with hers. "Hold on." He murmured, and let himself go.

He pounded into her over and over again, the speed and force managing to knock the headboard against the wall. If either had been able to notice, they'd have found the stereotypical action humorous. As it was, all they could see was one another.

She felt something building within her, something that she couldn't grasp onto, but that some primal part of her brain knew was going to possess her. When she toppled into it, and her body exploded in sensation, she screamed something along the lines of 'Oh my God, King!'. The sound was music to his ears.

He rode her through the climax and into his own, which wracked him so powerfully he was helpless to do anything but collapse on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. Their breathing was coming in short gasps, and their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He couldn't remember ever having had a climax quite that strong. But then again, he couldn't remember his own name.

By the time he was able to form a logical thought, he wasn't at all sure how long he'd been lying on top of Ashling. With a groan, he rolled off of her, flopping onto his back beside her. After a moment, she sat up, and reached onto the floor for her pants and bra.

King reached over, snatched them from her and threw them across the room. When she opened her mouth to protest, he grabbed her around the middle and dragged her on top of him. "If you think I'm going to apologize for that, you're out of your mind."

Ashling was tempted to sulk. "I don't want an apology. I was free to say no, and I didn't." she sighed, let her head fall on to his chest. "Sorry. I just really shouldn't have done that."

King lifted one eyebrow. "Oh? And just why not?"

"I don't have one night stands. I don't jump into bed with strange men."

He rolled her over, started kissing her neck. "Far as I remember, it isn't night. And we didn't jump. We sort of tumbled." He parted her thighs with one hand. "I'm thinking we're going to do it again."

Ashling opened her mouth to protest, was momentarily distracted when she felt him slide into her. She barely managed to keep her eyes open. "We really shouldn't. This is wrong, and too quick, and we decided we'd wait."

He kissed her, letting his tongue roam through her mouth and effectively erasing every thought that she had in her head. "We really should. It doesn't feel wrong. It actually feels really, really good. And we'll slow it down a little this time so it isn't so quick. And you decided we'd wait. I objected to the decision, and you reconsidered and decided I was right."

Ashling wasn't sure what he was talking about. "Right about what?"

He laughed and started moving. "You'll remember later."

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He didn't let her escape from bed until even he was cold. It was December, and while it was still California, they were naked and had no blankets. And even then, she got as far as the fireplace downstairs. He lit the fire while she rattled around the kitchen warming up cans of soup and making grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. Before they ate, he proceeded to show her why she really should have reconsidered making love for the first time on the kitchen counter. He'd already decided to show her why she should have invited him into her shower a little later.

Ashling was tired, she was feeling rather guilty, and yet she didn't seem to be able to stop him. She'd be completely determined to set up her own room and sleep by herself, and then he'd wrap his arms around her fro behind and kiss the back of her neck. The next thing she'd know, they were on the floor, tangled up in each other again. They ended up sleeping on the floor, very close to where they'd slept the night before, and he realized vaguely as he drifted to sleep that he never had gotten around to invading her shower.

He'd save that for the next day. They had to get some unpacking done first.


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